Breaking Point
by Varda's Servant
Summary: Everyone has a breaking point. Once you've gone there, can you ever come back? Harper-centric, no pairings chappie eight is finally up!
1. Welcome to Gestrin Drift

Hello, and welcome to my very first foray into the fandom of Andromeda. Yes, I know, I have two other stories that are waiting to be completed, and I am trying to do them too, I simply had more inspiration for this story right now than those. So there.  
  
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this, it's unbeta'd, so any mistakes are solely mine. I also don't own Andromeda gasp shock horror so please don't sue me, I have nothing for you to take. I'm just borrowing the characters, I will return them when I'm done, though they may be in worse shape than when I took them.  
  
Um, spoilers? Well, anything I've seen is fair game, and I've seen well into season four, about 4x18, but I don't think there's anything specific. That may change mind, but there aren't any serious ones just yet. I think.  
  
Anyway, enough of my windbagging, enjoy! And don't forget to R&R!  
  
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Chapter 1: Welcome to Gestrin Drift  
  
The Eureka Maru, otherwise known as Bucket of Bolts, docked gently with Gestrin drift. From the outside, the connection and joining of the two separate metal constructions was silent. From the inside, it was anything but.  
  
"You got the list?" Seamus Harper's voice called over the clank and hiss of docking. The other figure waited until the airlocks had met and sealed before answering.  
  
"Right here," Beka Valentine said, handing him his flexi, "and don't miss anything. Rommie gets testy when she has gas."  
  
"I'm the engineer, Beka. I wrote most of the list. And I know just how testy she can get, since she usually gets testy at me."  
  
"Well, you are supposed to fix her."  
  
"I'm only one man, you know. Admittedly, I am also a genius, a good-looking one to boot, but still, I only got one pair of hands."  
  
"Well, if you find all the parts for the AP venting system, then maybe she'll stop being testy at you."  
  
"Yeah, yeah."  
  
Harper nodded before the pair stepped out of the ship and onto the only drift in the known worlds that had every item they needed. Sometimes Beka hated flying on something as old as the Andromeda, but it wasn't like they hadn't had to scrounge before. Now that they were fugitives from the new Commonwealth that they had helped to build, they simply had to return to their old suppliers.  
  
Those that they had left.  
  
Beka glanced around the market area she was in, Harper having split off in search of some obscure part she had never heard of before. Seeing a promising stall, she wandered off, enjoying the feel of the station's marketplace. It could get boring on the Andromeda.  
  
Not often though, she though ruefully. All too often, they were fighting, or running, for their lives.  
  
She browsed the dingy store's shelves, sorting through the piles of junk, looking for some new pieces for the GFG drive. Rommie also got testy when she couldn't move.  
  
Picking out a few items, she headed off to haggle with the owner of the store, impatient to finish the errand so she could enjoy some down-time, and possibly some shopping. She needed some new holo-novels, the ones she had were getting boring on repeat.  
  
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"Oh, come on. That isn't worth fifteen hundred. I'll give you ten hundred tops, or I'm going elsewhere."  
  
"No, no, that isn't necessary. Though if you make it twelve hundred, I'll throw in this set of logic chips for free."  
  
"A set. For twelve hundred." Harper felt his instinct smirk and then whisper it's opinion in his ear. He reached for one of the 'logic chips' to inspect it.  
  
The small nightsider intercepted his hand deftly. "Very delicate, those are. No touching unless you're buying, yes?"  
  
"No. Ten hundred, final offer." Harper waited, his expression hard. Logic chips, yeah right.  
  
The nightsider teetered for a moment, before nodding his head once. "Deal." He said, and Harper thanked him with a little nod before paying the dealer and collecting his purchases.  
  
As he left the store, he crossed the last item off of his list with a sigh of relief. Funds were short, and he'd managed to spend two thousand thrones less than he was budgeted. Slipping the flexi into one of his pockets, he headed to the Maru to drop off the final round of parts.  
  
"Always save the smallest 'til last." He murmured to himself. Climbing down the ladder from the cargo hold, he grabbed himself a Weisbrau.  
  
Settling down, he took a few gulps of the sweet nectar otherwise known as beer. A few moments, he thought, then I'll go find Beka.  
  
Sitting back, he propped his feet up on the counter and took another swig. Life was good.  
  
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The bleep of the airlock bell woke Harper from his doze. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, but at least he hadn't spilled his beer. He put the bottle on the counter before heading over to airlock control. Checking the camera, he saw one of the dealers from earlier, that nightsider sleaze.  
  
For a moment, Harper considered ignoring him and going back to sleep, but when the airlock rang again, he decided that he'd better get rid of the creature first.  
  
Opening the airlock, Harper glared at the intruder. "What."  
  
"You are Seamus Harper, correct?"  
  
"What if I am?" Harper stifled a yawn as the nightsider grinned.  
  
"Then I am very rich."  
  
Before Harper could get his sleepy brain into gear, he was hit with something small and cold. And then his sleepy brain had no chance of waking up as it was sent back into a peaceful, though now drugged, sleep.  
  
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The nightsider grinned as the human male collapsed forward onto the decking. He turned to see a large Nietzchean step from around the corner. Two more followed, glancing distastefully down at the small man sprawled in front of them.  
  
"My payment?" The nightsider waited smugly for the reward promised him. He, too, was in for a surprise as, instead of the fifty thousand thrones he was expecting, he received a bullet to the head for his trouble.  
  
"Dispose of that." The leader waved in the general direction of the corpse, before directing his other companion to carry the limp engineer.  
  
Without a backward glance, the group split and disappeared, melting into the shadows. Soon, there was no trace of Harper or the events that occurred, apart from a cooling bottle of beer and a dark smudge, one among many, from where the dealer had fallen. 


	2. Yankee Doodle

A/N: Weee! Another chapter. A warning though, don't expect past this week for updates to be regular at all. They may cease for a few months due to my job. But until the end of the week, I shall try to update all my stories AOAP.  
  
Oh, and a correction from the last chapter. At the end, I said his beer was cooling. It was actually warming, it started out cold.  
  
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Chapter 2: Yankee Doodle  
  
"Harper? You here?" Beka slid down the last few rungs of the ladder, her boots hitting the deck with a solid thump. "Harper?" she called again, before shaking her head.  
  
"If you found yet another drifter girl and make us late..." Her threat trailed off as she headed forward to the cockpit, beginning startup procedures. Once she had the Maru warming up, she left the cockpit to wait for the wayward engineer in the small common area. Dumping her new flexis on the counter, she almost knocked over the bottle of warm Weisbrau sitting on the edge.  
  
"Argh, how many times have I told him..." Her muttered rant trailed off as she realized that the bottle was two-thirds full. That's not right, he never leaves his beer to warm. Not his Weisbrau.  
  
Still holding the bottle, she looked around once more, as if Harper would appear at a thought summons. He didn't. "Harper?"  
  
She put the bottle back on the counter and headed back up into the cargo pod. She grabbed the list from her pocket and checked everything on there. Yes, he had gotten everything they needed. So that ruled out theory one.  
  
Beka decided to check the rest of the ship. He could just be sleeping, and hadn't heard her. Ignoring her gut laughing at the idea of Harper sleeping deeply, she searched the rest of the ship, top to bottom, with no success.  
  
Back in the common area, she decided to check ship records before she panicked. It was possible he went out again and lost track of time. Again ignoring her instinct's derisive chuckle, she played back the last few hours of the Maru's surveillance cameras.  
  
"Harper coming, Harper leaving, Beka coming and leaving, Harper coming and leaving, Harper coming... But not leaving." Frowning, Beka continued to play the footage. "A nightsider knocking, Harper coming out, Harper... crap!"  
  
Seeing the Nietzcheans taking her engineer away, Beka checked the timestamp. Two hours ago.  
  
"Dammit! I should've come right back... damn!" Beka grabbed a gun, a forcelance and some spare ammo from the weapon's locker, hoping, however unlikely, that the Nietzcheans hadn't yet left the drift. If they had...  
  
Beka swore again, running back out into the no longer comforting bustle of Gestrin Drift.  
  
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"Dylan, we have a problem. Harper is gone, taken by a small group of Nietzcheans, to where I don't know. I can't tell you what pride, or even what they want with him. I do know that they knew who he was, and where to find him. And that as soon as they had him they disappeared. My guess is they left the drift once they finished their business, because I've looked everywhere and there is no sign of them. I'm heading to the rendezvous point now, hopefully I may have more information by the time I get there. Beka out."  
  
Hitting the send button, Beka sat back to think. She had some favours she could call in; they might give her some leads if the Nietzcheans were at all known. They might have even been bounty hunters, but that seemed highly unlikely.  
  
"First things first." Beka piloted the ship deftly through the traffic around Gestrin, setting a course for an old partner who was nearby. Finding the slip-point, she engaged the drive and settled back, trying to think of what to say to Reco. Other than 'surprise!'.  
  
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A sharp blow to the head woke Harper this time. He lifted his head and shook it, trying to clear the fog, but instead only succeeded in spinning the room. He dropped his head, only to receive another blow.  
  
"Ow, man, could you stop that? Unless you want me to pass out again." His words were directed to the large, brutish uber in front of him, though his gaze was directed blearily at the metal grating floor.  
  
He was on his knees, arms above his head, tied to the ceiling. Everything hurt, and he couldn't think at all clearly, probably after effects of whatever drug they pumped into him to knock him out in the first place.  
  
"So, here is the infamous Seamus Zelazny Harper." A cold voice from behind Harper spoke. "Earth scum, Dylan Hunt's resident mudfoot, and chief engineer aboard the Andromeda Ascendant. Right so far?"  
  
"Nah, you got me completely mixed up with someone else. My name is Yankee Doodle, and I ain't never heard of anything called the Andromeda. I'm a tailor, see, and I was just minding my own business, waiting for my next client, when uber jerk over there nabbed me. Now, I don't know what you want with any Seamus Harper, but he isn't me, so I would appreciate it if you could just return me to where you found me, and pronto. People don't like it when they have to go around naked cause they haven't got any clothes."  
  
The cold voice just chuckled, and suddenly fire raced across Harper's back. He bit back a scream, fury and hate burning through him.  
  
"You know, I have always found the simplest ways are the most effective. Take this, for example. A cat'o'nine tails. Ancient idea, yes, but still so applicable. Now, what were you saying?"  
  
Harper still couldn't see his uber tormentor, but he didn't care. There was still the jerk in front of him, clearly enjoying the show, and Harper refused to give him even the least bit of satisfaction. Not if he could help it.  
  
"I see," the voice sighed, "you want to play it that way. You know, it would be much easier if you simply cooperated."  
  
"I already told you," Harper bit out, "I'm a tailor. I don't know anything about machines, and I don't know this Harper you're talking about."  
  
Again fire lanced through him, and Harper wondered what it would feel like once his shirt was shredded to bits.  
  
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A/N: That's it for now, R&R cause I love the reviews. And they encourage me. 


	3. Dimming Light

A/N: Y'ello again! Look! It's another chapter! Yay! I hope you all like it, and thanks for the great reviews. Enjoy!  
  
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Chapter 3: Dimming Light  
  
"Please tell me you found Harper, or at the very least know which solar system he's in."  
  
Beka's voice was slightly worn, and she sounded exhausted.  
  
"No such luck. We haven't got anything, Rhade didn't recognize the Nietzcheans involved, and it's not like there was much to go on. Did you find anything with your contacts?" Captain Dylan Hunt faced Beka, hoping, for once, that it would be easy.  
  
"Nothing." Beka shook her head ruefully. "Either they don't know anything or they're really good actors." The pair fell silent, trying to come up with any miraculous and/or brilliant ideas as to where their engineer might be.  
  
They had several replacements, yes; it wasn't like they didn't have a crew. The problem was that none of them were as familiar with the Andromeda as Harper, especially since he hadn't re-wired her to spec during all those repairs he'd had to do. Which made for some interesting engineering.  
  
Dylan and Beka stood silently for a moment more before Rommie's hologram popped into existence nearby.  
  
"Dylan, we just received a distress call from a nearby planet. They say that their world is tearing itself apart due to tectonic disturbances and are begging for any assistance from ships in the vicinity."  
  
Dylan looked torn for a moment, before facing holo-Andromeda. "Do they know we are here?"  
  
"No," holo-Rommie shook her head, "it was a general distress call."  
  
Dylan stood for a moment more, then glanced at Beka. She sighed, knowing full well what they were going to do.  
  
"Alright, alright." She raised her hands in acquiescence. "But we dump the refugees ASAP. I want my Harper back."  
  
"So do I." Dylan muttered as the pair headed for command.  
  
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"Now what?" Beka looked around the room hopelessly. "We just give up on him? I can't believe you would do that Dylan. After everything he's done for us, you are willing to just abandon him?"  
  
Beka glanced once more around the table, met only with silence and sad gazes. She turned to the only person who had a chance of convincing Dylan right then.  
  
"Trance, please. He's your friend. Are you ready to just let him go? To leave him in the hands of the Nietzcheans who are doing God only knows what to him. Can you do that?"  
  
"Beka," Trance's voice was soft and sorrowful, "we can not go after Harper. If we do, we will die. And so will he."  
  
"I don't care. I'm going after him, no matter what you say. He's my crew, my family. I won't leave him behind."  
  
"Beka, please don't do this. I don't want you to die either. And you will, if you go."  
  
Beka's gaze was hard as she met Trance's eyes, but it softened as she felt the weight of what Trance was saying. "No chance?" she asked hopelessly, sagging into a chair.  
  
"I'm sorry Beka. He's my family too."  
  
"Then he's dead."  
  
Beka was startled when Trance shook her head. "No, he's not. And later, in the future, there may be a chance to save him. But it isn't now, no matter how much I wish it was."  
  
Beka nodded slowly, noticing for the first time that neither Rhade or Dylan looked surprised. She glared an accusation at Trance. "You told them first?"  
  
Trance nodded once in confirmation. "We knew you wouldn't give up, not unless there was compelling reason to do so."  
  
"I'm sorry, Beka, truly I am. Harper was a good man and an excellent engineer." Rhade stood, and left for command, leaving the closer group alone.  
  
"There will be another chance Beka, but you have to admit, if you had gone alone to search for him, where would you have started? We have no leads, no trail, nothing."  
  
Sighing, Beka shook her head. "I don't know, all I know is I would feel better if I was out looking, at the very least."  
  
Dylan's hand rested briefly on Beka's. "Get some rest." His voice was soft, and he squeezed her hand gently before joining Rhade on command. Trance sat quietly, watching Beka swallow and blink.  
  
"You can cry, you know. I'm here, if you need me."  
  
Beka smiled slightly, then shook her head again. "If I cry, some part of me will admit that he's dead, that there won't be another day. That I will never see him again. And that isn't true, now is it?"  
  
Trance smiled in return, standing up. "That is true. We will find him, or he will find us. Either way, we will see him again."  
  
As Trance also left, Beka's head sank down onto the table. A tear slid slowly down her cheek, dripping onto the mirrored surface. She stared down at it, wondering if she would ever really believe Harper was still alive. No matter what she told the others, she knew what the Nietzcheans did to their prisoners. It had already been a week. Was there truly any chance?  
  
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Trance left the briefing room, knowing that Beka was giving up, and not blaming her in the least. After all, with what Trance had seen, she wasn't sure that the shell they would encounter could be called Harper anymore.  
  
As she settled in to tend to her plants on Hydroponics, she prayed another future would show itself to her, and soon.  
  
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The light was blinding. They never turned it off, which made it difficult to see anything whenever they removed him from his cell.  
  
He lay on his side, his back a mess of open wounds, his stomach and chest covered in burns. He would kill for a drink of water, his mouth and nose so dry they burned fiercely. He hadn't been allowed any proper sleep, only those short times when they knocked him out.  
  
Footsteps in the passageway outside his cell alerted him to yet another session. He heaved himself up onto his knees as best he could, waiting for the guards to come and drag him back to the ninth circle.  
  
Instead, a blonde head popped through, brandishing her beautiful smile, the most stunning smile Harper had ever seen.  
  
"Beka." He croaked, relieved to see her. He knew she wouldn't leave him here, he knew that she would come.  
  
"Harper! Come on, we're here to rescue you!"  
  
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Heh heh, I love cliffies. R&R for more, they encourage me, and since I'm sick right now, I'll need a lot of encouragement. ;D 


	4. Tricks and Traps and Insanity

Chapter 4: Tricks and Traps and Insanity  
  
"Beka? Are you in here?" Receiving no reply, Trance wandered into the small room anyway. She walked past several of Harper's unfinished projects, peeking under a few, before spying a small figure curled up beside the bones of the X1, Harper's most treasured piece yet.  
  
"Beka. Please. He wouldn't want you to waste away with grief, not when he isn't yet dead."  
  
"He's dead to me Trance. To us. So please, just go, I want to be alone."  
  
A small, sad smile graced Trance's lips. "In the words of someone we both know and love, the universe doesn't always give us what we want. It gives us what we need. And you need comfort. And food. And rest."  
  
"No," Beka glared up at Trance, showing her face for the first time in their conversation. "What I need is my Harper back."  
  
Trance sank softly down beside the blonde, taking her in her arms. "I know Beka, I want him back too."  
  
"You don't know, Trance, you cant." Her voice muffled against Trance's shoulder, Beka began to sob. "You didn't see him after Earth. You could tell he didn't trust me, not even after I kicked Bobby off. Maybe that made it worse, I don't know."  
  
"Hush, Beka, it'll be all right. Everything will be okay."  
  
Trance knew she wasn't telling a complete lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either. Yes, a more acceptable future had revealed itself, but it wasn't perfect, not by a long shot, and hoping wouldn't make it so. Only time could, but that didn't mean it would.  
  
Beka continued talking, unaware of Trance's inner dilemma. "He was the first of my crew, even before Vex Pac. He was like my brother. I miss him. And then, whenever I think of where he is, what's happening to him, I want to go charging off in the Eureka Maru, and the only thing stopping me is the lock I had Rommie put on the docking bay."  
  
Trance's curiosity was piqued by this, and she looked down at the crown of Beka's head. "Lock? What lock?"  
  
A watery laugh answered her. "I had Rommie lock the bay, and only someone else's code can unlock it. I told Dylan, he thought it a wise precaution. Considering the number of times I would have uselessly run off by now, I'm glad I thought of it."  
  
Trance laughed lightly.  
  
"See," her voice was inordinately cheerful, "you really do believe he is alive. So how 'bout we stop talking about him in the past tense and go get some food?"  
  
Looking up at Trance, ignoring her tear-stained cheeks, Beka laughed again, stronger this time.  
  
"I guess," she mumbled, getting to her feet, "and then I suppose you want me to go to sleep, hmm?"  
  
"Well, maybe." Trance pulled herself to her feet and the pair wandered out of Harper's machine shop, happier than either had been in days.  
  
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Footsteps outside of Harper's cell wrung a groan from the slumped figure inside.  
  
"Go away..." His head ached so bad he thought it would explode, and be now he had stopped feeling the individuals aches on his body from those lovely little 'sessions' the ubers loved so much. Not that that was the worst part.  
  
Somehow, the ubers were creating false rescue attempts. Repeatedly. Harper had lost count at five. Or it might have been six, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that every one so far had been a fake.  
  
What made it all the worse was that every fake got him back to the Andromeda, each time the simulacrum lasting longer than the previous one. Each time, though, he eventually spotted some inconsistency, some small flaw, and tried to get away. That always ended with a splitting pain to his head and unconsciousness. When he woke, he was back here.  
  
Sometimes they dragged him off for more fun in between, sometimes they left him to wonder if perhaps all of this was in his head, the whole thing some insane delusion. He wondered if maybe the Andromeda didn't exist in the first place, maybe he was a prisoner in some uber stronghold on Earth, forgotten in their jail.  
  
Maybe there wasn't even an Earth to begin with, or perhaps there hadn't been a fall. What if the Commonwealth had never fallen in the first place and this whole thing was a representation of his mind trying to restore order. Restore sanity.  
  
It would make a twisted sense, he thought vaguely. In a perverse turn of logic, all of this would certainly make sense.  
  
The footsteps halting outside his cell brought his head around. He watched as two ubers marched in, grabbed him by his arms, and proceeded to drag him out down the corridor.  
  
"You can't hurt me," he mumbled, almost incoherently, "you're all a figment of my imagination."  
  
His protests continued all the way down the corridor, and on during the session until he wasn't able to do more than scream.  
  
As they dragged him back to his blinding cell, he began to laugh hysterically. He suddenly found this whole thing perversely funny. He must really hate himself to imagine this.  
  
His laughter continued until he passed out from exhaustion.  
  
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"Progress is slower than expected, but it is still coming along nicely. We should have something useable in no more than a fortnight."  
  
"Very good. Setbacks were allowed for, so the timing is acceptable. Do we have all of the intel we need?"  
  
"Almost. Another simulation or two should provide us with all the data we will need for stage one. And he should be ready by the time stage two is set."  
  
"Very good. Continue. But do it right. We will never have another opportunity like this one, and incompetence is unacceptable. Dismissed."  
  
As his subordinate left, the Nietzchean returned his eyes and mind to the flexi in front of him. He thought it typical that a kludge, no matter how resourceful this one seemed, wouldn't guard such an important asset as the one now resting in his brig.  
  
Well, he wouldn't make the same mistake. He knew how important the kludge, Seamus Harper, was. He wouldn't let the mudfoot slide from his grasp, not ever.  
  
Well, actually, until such time as he was no longer useful, that was.  
  
Grinning, the uber continued reading the dossier, readying himself for the nearing encounter.  
  
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A/N: Hello guys! Another update, and I hope you all appreciate it, I'm really sick right now, so it was an effort getting this out. But I wanted to, since you guys like it. R&R, you never know, maybe it will help me get better sooner! Its always possible, right? 


	5. No Way Out

Chapter 5: No Way Out

"Harper, I need you to fix the slipstream drive again, it was damaged badly during our last encounter with the Ogami."

Dylan's voice was level as he looked steadily at Harper. Harper shook his head slightly. He just couldn't get the feeling that something was wrong to leave him alone. But there wasn't anything wrong, it was just paranoia.

Nodding to himself, he left command and headed down to the engine room. He was just being paranoid. That was all.

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"I'll kill you! I'll get all you uber bastards! Hate you! HATE YOU!"

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"Harper, are you alright?"

Harper glanced at the hologram standing opposite him. He could just make her out from the wall, his vision was a little fuzzy today.

"I'm fine Rommie, just a little tired. And I have this headache, it won't go away."

Rommie nodded, then closed her eyes briefly. "Trance is on her way."

"Rommie, I'm fine, really. I don't need to be coddled, really. Plus... um, plus, there's a lot of work... work... work, what was I saying?"

Harper looked at Rommie and tried to stand, his knees giving way before he could straighten completely.

He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

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"I won't help you! You'll see! I'm no traitor! I'LL KILL YOU ALL!!!!!"

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"Harper, how long before we have fire control back online?"

"Soon, boss, I'm nearly there. Just got to re-wire... There! Got it!"

Harper sat back triumphantly as Tyr immediately fired on their pursuers.

Tyr... fired... Tyr...

"Tyr?"

Rhade looked at him strangely. "Harper? Are you all right?"

-------------

"Mistakes! You don't exist! Not real! Can't HURT ME!"

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"Harper, please eat something. You are exhausted, and if you don't eat, you'll make yourself sick again."

Harper laughed lightly. He glanced at Beka and cheerily saluted her before returning his attention to his precious X1.

"Sure, Beka, I will. I'm just gonna finish this up first."

"That's what you said three parts ago."

Harper laughed again. "So I like my work, and I like my play even more. Where's the harm in that?"

Beka laughed now, and reached over to yank Harper's shirt so he was forced to stand up.

"There's plenty of harm in it. I don't want to have to sedate you again so you'll sleep."

"Hey," Harper protested, shaking Beka - and the headache - off, "it wasn't you that sedated me last time. It was Rommie." Beka shook her head again.

"Figures you'd point that out. You and your crush. And anyway, I've had to do it before, so my point still stands. Now get!"

With a slap to Harper's shoulder, Beka chased her surrogate brother from the machine shop.

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"Figments! Unreal! Hate you ALL! Not me! No! No! Not... NOT!!!"

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"Harper? Harper? Are you in here?"

Harper heard Rev's voice, but couldn't bring himself to answer. Not after what he'd done. That bridge... If he'd only shown some self-control. Then all those people wouldn't be dead.

Woody wouldn't be dead.

Wait... Rev's voice? Rev?

"Rev?" Harper stood quickly, searching for the presence that he would swear was there just a moment earlier.

He had wished to talk to Rev, after all that had happened, he needed to speak to him. But Rev was gone?

"I really am going crazy." He muttered to himself as he slowly sat down again, one small flesh-and-blood machine among many metal ones.

Trying to ignore his growing headache, he continued to contemplate his recent mistakes.

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"Never! NEVER! NOOOOOOOO! DIE! Evil! EVIL! EVIL FIGMENTS!"

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"He's coming along nicely. He should be ready within a week."

"Excellent. Proceed with the first part. Do not make any mistakes."

Even if the subordinate hadn't known the gravity of the situation, the weight of his superior's tone would have convinced him. For a Nietzchean, failure was not an option. But when the stakes were this high, failure wasn't simply inconceivable.

It was impossible. Not if you wanted to see your children ever again.

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"We have missiles on several vectors. They're aiming for my vulnerable points."

Rommie's voice was calm, as if she was informing them of the time, not impending doom.

Dylan and Trance exchanged looks, the former's frustrated, the latter's resigned.

"Trance..." Dylan's tone was warning, and Trance sighed.

"They know everything Harper knows about the Andromeda. We'll have to outsmart them."

"Tell me again just why we didn't go after him?"

Trance looked less happy than Dylan. "Because none of us would have survived."

Nodding Dylan ordered another salvo, and continued directing the battle as best he could.

"That makes three down." Rommie's voice was still calm.

"How many more?"

Dylan sounded slightly desperate. The Nietzcheans knew exactly where to hit, and trying to dissuade them was proving a difficult task.

"Four."

"Can we get them?"

"Not before we are disabled."

"Can we run yet?"

"Thirty light seconds and counting."

"Rhade, try and hold them off. Beka-"

"I know the drill. Keep em off our backs until we can run."

Twenty light seconds later, fingers of slipstream reached out and embraced the Andromeda Ascendant, and three kinetic missiles leaped out towards their opponents as a brief parting gift.

Thirty light seconds later, Subordinate #1 was left wondering how to explain this setback to his Alpha.

-------------

A/N: Hey guys, its me again. I hope you all liked this chappie, I'm hoping to have another up tomorrow, but don't count on that as I have a function to go to.

R&R, it makes me feel nice, and when I feel nice I write more. ;D


	6. No Surprises There

Chapter 6: No Surprises There  
  
"Wake up, little man. Wake up now."  
  
Harper groaned and shifted, his body aching. He opened his eyes on reflex, before closing them on a second reflex.  
  
However, the light was not blinding anymore. In fact, he wasn't in his cell at all. He was lying on a soft cot in a small room, warm and clothed. And though his body did still throb with pain, the sharpness was gone.  
  
Rolling onto his side, Harper gingerly sat up, parts of him mildly protesting. He looked down at his body, feeling it through the thin shirt that he was now wearing. The cuts and burns were gone, replaced with another set of scars that would eventually fade.  
  
Harper looked up, wondering what the hell was going on. And his mind stopped in shock. He was still hallucinating, he must be.  
  
"You look surprised to see me."  
  
The dark figure was calm as he sat in the shadows, eating a small fruit.  
  
"A little, yeah."  
  
"Hmm, now why would that be?"  
  
"Take a guess." Harpers' voice turned sarcastic as he shifted once more to face the man.  
  
The man laughed. "Even after everything, you are still the same, little professor."  
  
"What do you want?" Harper's voice held none of the amusement of his opponent, only ice.  
  
"The Andromeda."  
  
Harper snorted. "Not gonna happen, uber. Not gonna happen."  
  
"You are going to help me, little man, whether you want to or not. If you help me willingly, I'll reward you well. You could even have Rommie, if you liked.  
  
"But if you resist," Tyr leaned forward now, his face coming into the light, "it will not be pleasant for you."  
  
"Oh, right, like you've made me so welcome so far."  
  
Tyr grinned, a grin full of teeth and empty of compassion. "What I will be forced to do will make your stay so far seem like a resort."  
  
Harper glared at Tyr and sat back.  
  
"How did you survive?"  
  
Tyr sat back. "If you help me, you will find out. And you may even survive the Abyss' coming. I know you little man. You are a survivor, you would do whatever it takes. So I will be generous and give you a day to think on my offer. After that, I will not hesitate to use whatever means necessary to achieve my goal. Understood?"  
  
Harper only glared, unsatisfied with the whole situation.  
  
Tyr stood, smiling slightly, and left the small room, leaving Harper with a bundle of mysteries and no way of getting answers.  
  
-------------  
  
"Has the AG field on deck seventeen been fixed yet?" Dylan looked at the Andromeda on screen, exhausted.  
  
Harper might not have been the only engineer they had, but he was the best, and Dylan once more cursed the fact that he had not re-wired Rommie to spec.  
  
"They are almost complete, captain, and the damage to the environmental systems on decks thirty through thirty-six are now complete."  
  
"Great. How soon can we be underway?"  
  
"About one hour."  
  
Dylan nodded to himself, thinking for a moment. He glanced up at the screen- Rommie. "Gather the crew in the conference room."  
  
Without waiting for an answer, Dylan left command.  
  
-------------  
  
"We have to go after him."  
  
"Dylan, no. We can't. We have to-"  
  
"What, Trance. Leave him there? He's a member of my crew, Trance, and I don't leave anyone behind, not if there's another way."  
  
"What do you propose? We have nothing. No leads, no ideas, no hints of him anywhere."  
  
"I know, but we can at least start looking. We may come up with something now that we didn't have a month ago. And I refuse to sit on my hands any longer, waiting for some vague future."  
  
"Dylan-"  
  
"No Trance. We're going after him."  
  
"Finally!"  
  
"I knew that you wouldn't object, Beka. How about you Rhade? What do you think?"  
  
"I think that we should have gone after him long ago."  
  
"Then it's settled. We're gonna get our engineer back."  
  
"And our friend."  
  
"Yes. And our friend."  
  
-------------  
  
"I had hoped that you would join me. Make this easier on both of us. However, I had allowed for this, so my plans are not affected."  
  
"Go to hell." Harper struggled futilely against the two large Nietzcheans holding him.  
  
"That's where you will be, though you still have a choice. Help me, and you will have everything you want." Tyr watched impassively as the little professor struggled some more.  
  
"Not gonna happen, you uber bastard." Harper spit at Tyr, narrowly missing his eye. Tyr simply wiped away the spittle and nodded at his subordinates.  
  
As Harper was dragged away, Tyr turned and left the pair to their work, a slight pang of regret flowing through him.  
  
It quickly dissipated as Tyr strode towards his meeting hall. If his plans were to work, he had much to arrange.  
  
He ignored the screams floating up after him.  
  
-------------  
  
Harper lay still, the burning sensation dulled slightly if he lay still. In fact, if he didn't move at all, or make a sound, or do anything but breathe, it dulled enough that he could remember his own name.  
  
"Harper." He mumbled, and felt a stab of white-hot pain run through him. He resisted the urge to arch his back and scream, the pain would only build.  
  
"Get up." A gruff voice ordered him, and Harper didn't move. A stab of pain ran through him at that, but Harper still didn't move.  
  
"Now!" A stronger dose convinced Harper that moving now would be a good idea.  
  
He stood, and the pain faded. Swaying slightly, Harper turned his head, and nearly fell as yet another wave ran through him. He held still.  
  
"Good."  
  
-------------  
  
"We left the air clear as you ordered. The electro-shock therapy is going smoothly, though again, not as quickly as anticipated."  
  
Tyr looked at the man who had, up until five days ago, been running this operation.  
  
"It is still within schedule. Are you here to report only those things that I know, or do you have something new to tell me?"  
  
The Beta male swallowed. "We lost the Andromeda."  
  
"Very well. Find them again before this is complete and I will ignore your lapse in competency."  
  
"Yes sir." The Beta looked relieved as he left the presence of the Nietzchean leader.  
  
Tyr continued reading his flexi, knowing that the Andromeda would appear sooner or later, come to look for their missing friend.  
  
And that he would be ready with their 'friend' when they did.  
  
-------------  
  
A/N: Go me! I finally got another chappie done! Yay! I hope you liked it, and yes, I realize the insanity disappeared, I did put an explanation in there, you'll just have to find it. If you hadn't already. I'm gonna stop babbling now and shamelessly beg for reviews. 


	7. The Only Path

A/N: Hey guys! I would first like to apologize for taking so long to update, RL is crap at the moment. Work is pretty full-on, and for those of you who will never read a bio, I would like to give you an update on the situation. First, for the next month, EVERYTHING is on hold. My boss has some business trips planned and such, so I will have no time to write. At all. Which is terrible in and of itself, but anyways.  
  
So yes, not much going to happen in the next few weeks. Do not be discouraged, however, please review still, it really does help. I'm going to stop babbling and let you read the latest installment now. Goodbye.  
  
Spoilers: Some specific ones in this chappie, mostly for The Dark Backward. I can't remember if there are any more.  
  
--------------------  
  
Chapter 7: The Only Path  
  
"I do wish this wasn't necessary, little professor. You would have been a great asset if you had simply listened to your instincts. I do not blame you however. Your inherent mistrust of my people would have been a significant factor in your decision, though I had held hopes your old trust of me might have overcome them."  
  
Tyr stood with all the liquid grace of a cat. He slowly circled around the small man standing in the middle of his conference chamber.  
  
"You are still the key, so though you are no longer able to appreciate that, it is a compliment of the highest order."  
  
He stood, contemplating his words and his recent actions, then turned and strode from the room.  
  
The small kludge neither moved nor spoke, nor even thought. He stood, awaiting the words that would give him purpose, for a short time.  
  
--------------------  
  
"Dylan, I need to speak to you alone."  
  
Dylan looked up, slightly confused. "We are alone Trance, there isn't anyone else here."  
  
Trance stepped forward. "I meant, you know." She looked up at the ceiling, and Dylan nodded slowly. "Oh, right. Okay. Engage privacy mode please Andromeda."  
  
"Privacy mode engaged, authorisation Captain Dylan Hunt."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"You're welcome. Now, since you hunted me down in my quarters in the middle of the night, I'm assuming it's something important. Something like our chief engineer maybe?"  
  
Trance nodded. "I have seen another set of futures. Something's happening, something big, and Harper is in the center of it. What Harper has become, I should more accurately say."  
  
Dylan sat on his sofa chair, frowning as he took in Trance's words. "What Harper has become?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
He waited for a moment more before prodding further. "Would you like to expand on that?"  
  
"I can't."  
  
"You can't."  
  
"No. I'm sorry."  
  
"You're sorry? Sorry?"  
  
"Dylan, there is much at stake here, much that I can not tell you, much that even I don't understand."  
  
"What have they done to him, Trance."  
  
Trance refused to back down, stolidly holding Dylan's angry gaze. Dylan finally threw up his hands, flinging himself from his seat.  
  
"Will you at least tell me if we find him?"  
  
"We do, in a manner of speaking. That is consistent."  
  
"Will he be alright?"  
  
"I can't say."  
  
"What can you tell me?"  
  
Ignoring her captain's frustration, Trance shook her head. "Not much more. You have to understand, what I see, it is not perfect. It isn't a science or an art. It isn't even something I create. It just is, and all I can do is choose as best I can."  
  
Dylan watched her for a few moments more, thoughtfully. He nodded once, slowly.  
  
"Then I will trust you to choose. But remember this Trance. This is Harper, not some distant pawn in whatever game your species play. So choose wisely."  
  
--------------------  
  
"How many?"  
  
"At least fifty, possibly more. Wait, I'm detecting another slipstream event. Twenty more ships, including four battle cruisers."  
  
"Damnit!"  
  
"Captain, they are attempting to access me using old codes."  
  
"Harper's?"  
  
"Yes. But another set as well. Tyr's."  
  
"What?! I thought he was dead! Why does no one stay dead around here?"  
  
"It must be your raw animal magnetism."  
  
"Thank you for that Beka. Unfortunately, Tyr isn't exactly my type."  
  
"Captain, two more slipstream events, another... forty ships, at least."  
  
"If we try to fight, we're toast."  
  
"We can't just give up. Rommie, arm-"  
  
"Dylan, no. Don't fight them. You have to let them board. If you don't, we will die."  
  
"You know, Trance, I'm getting really sick of hearing that. I'm not just going to give in. This is my ship, these people are my crew, and I won't just hand them over to the Nietzcheans for whatever mercy they decide to give them. I won't."  
  
"Harper is on those ships, with Tyr. If they board, Harper will come here. The ships, they won't be as vigilant. Please, Dylan, you've listened to me and trusted me this far."  
  
"Captain, they are demanding our surrender."  
  
"Please, Dylan. Trust me."  
  
"Captain..."  
  
"Rommie, disarm weapons. Transmit our surrender on the condition that the crew will be taken to safety, unharmed."  
  
--------------------  
  
"I had forgotten how beautiful you are."  
  
"Thank you." Was Rommie's acid reply.  
  
Tyr looked around himself at the Andromeda's command deck, admiring her sleek lines. Dylan watched him impassively, Beka, Rhade, Trance and Rommie standing behind him.  
  
Dylan, though touched by his crew's solidarity, was annoyed that they had refused to leave. He did understand, but he was getting tired of his orders to evacuate being ignored.  
  
"The crew."  
  
"Ah yes," Tyr faced Dylan again, grinning, "Dylan will be Dylan. They will be fine, they are being given disarmed ships and left to their own devices. Provisioned, of course."  
  
Dylan watched Tyr's men adjusting consoles and stationing themselves around the bridge. He knew that all across the ship, other Nietzcheans were doing the same. He wanted to shoot them right now, but knew he couldn't. No matter how much he hated it, he trusted Trance to do what was right. What was best.  
  
--------------------  
  
Trance watched Tyr's forces come in and occupy the Andromeda, her home and friend. She wanted to scream at whoever made all those futures out there, scream that this was wrong, that they shouldn't have to do this.  
  
But they did, and she knew that better than any of them.  
  
She listened with half an ear to the exchange between Dylan and Tyr, paying more attention to the futures unfolding before her. There was one, there, that was better, but still, she could not see a perfect one.  
  
Maybe there wasn't this time. Maybe this was a futile exercise and she should have let them all be blown up.  
  
Her instincts fought that. It was not in her nature, nor that of her people, to give up. Not yet.  
  
She was prodded into moving by a smug soldier, following the others as they were all escorted down to V-deck.  
  
As the cells were locked, Trance sat on the small shelf that served as a cot, chair and table. Se hoped that Dylan's trust was not misplaced, that she really would choose best.  
  
She did not want to choose against Harper again. She did not want to kill him again.  
  
--------------------  
  
A/N: Hello! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I would like to take this time to beg for reviews, again. I love getting them, and it does encourage me, so go for it! It's easy, it only has to be two words long if you want, and with the way work is piling on top of me, it's great to know my hobbies are appreciated, so yay! Review!  
  
(yes, I do realize that that was a lot more coherent then I normally am, I apologize, I am not myself today. :D) 


	8. Alone

A/N: Hello once more my loyal reader people! I would like to apologize for such a long gap between chapters, Life seriously got to me and wouldn't let go. But I hope this makes up for some of the wait, it's longer than usual. Don't forget to R&R at the end, it'll make me very happy. And I can only write when I'm happy. :-P

Enjoy!

-------------

Chapter 8: Alone

"Do we have control?" Tyr never turned from surveying the view that Andromeda's screens allowed. It was only his own fleet, but it was still magnificent.

The underling moved forward so that he was standing just behind Tyr's right shoulder. "Manual control has been established."

"And the litt- the kludge? Has he shown any signs of rebellion?"

"No, the training appears to be holding."

Tyr nodded once, sharply. "Excellent. Once he has completed his current task, I have a very special one for him."

"Yes milord."

As the underling left Tyr's side, he felt a brief pang of regret. Once more, he pushed it aside. His plan was coming along nicely; he no longer needed the pompous Dylan Hunt or his crew. He had all he needed. Power, wealth, family. He didn't need their friendship any longer.

He kept one ear on the voices around command, ordering, alerting, the occasional awe-struck compliment on the Andromeda's design. Hearing his Second step up behind him, Tyr inwardly tensed. He turned at the quiet query.

"Yes?"

"The kludge has been sent, as you ordered. We are fully in control, and are awaiting your orders."

"Very well." Tyr turned back to the viewscreens. "Get us underway to our first conquest. I am looking forward to this."

"As are we all, my lord." With a small bow, the Second started giving orders, the bridge crew leaping to.

Tyr smiled a small smile. He could get used to this.

-------------

"At least we have food."

"Yeah, a rare bout of mercy on their part."

"That doesn't mean much right now. We don't have much, so without slipdrive, we're gonna starve anyway."

Ensign Marcy sighed. "Yeah, I know. I'm just trying to be positive."

Lieutenant Garams looked around the small portion of the crew that had been dumped on his ship. His ship because he was the ranking officer. "I didn't mean to discourage you. I'm sorry."

"I know." Marcy shook her head. "It doesn't matter how many supplies we have if we can't go anywhere or talk to anyone, so I suppose some realism is required."

Garams smiled slightly. "Yeah."

Ensign Jarad'he broke in. "Look at it this way. We can still see Andromeda, so there is always a chance that we can get her back."

"Or if we run into real trouble, they may always come to help us out."

A round of sceptical noises followed that remark. Marcy looked a little peeved. "And didn't the lieutenant just say we needed optimism?"

"Yeah, you're right. It's just tough is all." Crewman Manning was staring out the portside window, watching the Andromeda and the fleet of Nietzchean vessels surrounding her. "I mean, she isn't just our home. She's our friend. And what about Captain Hunt and the bridge crew? Not all of them left with us. Who knows what the Niets are doing to them?"

A silence fell over the cabin then, the crew each pondering their fates and the fates of those who had stayed aboard.

"Um, guys?"

Broken from their thoughts, the crew turned to look at Manning. He didn't look at all happy.

"Yeah?" Garams prayed it wasn't more bad news. His prayer went unheard.

"The Andromeda. The fleet. They're moving out. They're leaving."

-------------

Dylan paced another length of the small cell. Then another. And another. His blood was boiling over as he thought over recent events.

Rommie had been shut down, his crew, the ones who had followed orders, were stranded in a dead system, the crew that were stubbornly loyal were locked away in their own brig, held by a former crewmate and friend, while that same former friend held one of their number captive doing Divine-knows-what to him.

Dylan was not happy. Not at all.

He paced another length of the room, spinning his wheels trying to think of a way out. He had tried talking to Trance, but she was being even more evasive than usual, and that it was her who had insisted they surrender was not helping.

With a frustrated sigh, he folded himself down on the shelf. Leaning against the wall, he ran a hand through his hair. It didn't help.

With a growl, he threw himself up and began pacing again.

"Dylan, would you stop that? I'm getting dizzy _listening_ to you."

He stopped mid-pace and chuckled suddenly. "You can get dizzy listening to someone?"

"Yeah," Beka's voice held a trace of amusement, "it comes from having an active imagination. I know what you're doing, and I know that if I was watching it, it would make me dizzy, so listening has the same basic affect."

"Huh." Dylan thought for a moment. "Weird."

He sat down again, slightly more relaxed than before.

Then he felt an unmistakable jolt. He was alert in an instant, though what good it did him while in the brig, he didn't know. A voice a moment later and he knew he wasn't the only one to have felt it.

"Slipstream." Rhade said, Beka an instant later.

"Yeah," Dylan sat up as they exited the stream, another jolt running through the ship. "The question is, to where?"

-------------

Tyr surveyed the distant beauty of the planet Suleiss. Behind him on the bridge, his crew worked to prepare for their takeover.

_Soon,_ he thought, triumph building within him.

"Sir, we are ready."

"All ahead full. Arm weapons. Have slipfighters prepare for launch."

As his second once more barked out his orders, Tyr smiled. Life was very good.

-------------

"Ensign, are the comms up yet?"

"Almost. This better work."

"It will. I learned this from Harper himself." Manning looked proud of himself as he guided Marcy through the steps it would take to get the comms back. Garams supposed that it was a blessing that they had gotten one of the best engineers on the Andromeda, but he wondered how well broadcasting would work if no one else had theirs up.

A sudden burst of static and a female voice heralded the success of the 'engineering' pair. Garams gave them the thumbs up before turning his attention to the task at hand. He listened for a moment.

"This is .... –elly of the Andro.... -ease respond.... I repeat.... Commander Martelly of the.... Does anyone cop-...."

"Can you clear it up?"

"I'll try." Marcy moved out of the way as Manning tweaked a few more circuits. The static on the line lessened and Garams leaned forward to respond.

"This is Lieutenant Garams of the Andromeda Ascendant. We hear you Commander."

"Thank the Divine." Martelly sounded relieved to hear another voice. "We've been broadcasting since the Niets left. You are the first to respond."

"Well, we're just glad there's someone else with their comms up."

Martelly laughed. "Yeah, it got boring talking to myself. Now, are you the ranking officer?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Alright. What's your inventory and personnel?"

"There's twenty of us on this boat. It's an old fighter, but it's been completely disarmed. The slipdrive is also broken, and without proper parts, it's beyond repair. We have eleven crewmen, two environmental sciences officers, a drill sergeant, five ensigns and me, a lieutenant."

"Anything useful in the way of equipment?"

"Not really. We had to tear out some of the nav hardware to repair our comms."

"How much food and water do you have?"

"Enough to last us about a month on tight rationing."

"Alright. I'm going to keep on broadcasting, maybe some of the other ships will get their comms up soon. I want you and your group to try and fix those weapons and figure out what you need to fix the slipdrive. Report back every hour."

"Understood. Garams out."

He looked up at his crew. They looked back at him. The ship was silent.

"Well," he said, "you heard the commander. Let's get to work!"

-------------

Dylan woke from his fitful doze at the sound of footsteps. Loud footsteps.

Since being thrown into the brig, The guards hadn't come near the cells.

Swinging his legs off the cot, Dylan stood, watching the entrance to the cell. He saw a shadow, and then a figure walked past. A voice rang out and the figure turned towards Dylan.

Seeing the face, Dylan froze, shocked.

"Harper?"


End file.
